


Let Me Congratulate You

by Always_Dreaming



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Celebrations, Costumes, Euro 2016, Fluff, M/M, deviousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7476081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always_Dreaming/pseuds/Always_Dreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronaldo celebrates his team's victory in Euro 2016. But someone important isn't there with him...</p><p>This is basically just silly and fluffy. Just something that occurred to me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Congratulate You

The Portuguese team party to celebrate their historic win was running down now—it had been going on since the presentation of the trophy yesterday evening and it was now five in the morning.

Cristiano sat in a small seating area off the main hall, on a snug cushioned leather chair with his leg up on a matching stool—his knee was far more painful now than it had been at first and had swollen up. The painkillers had helped suppress the soreness of course, and so had the euphoria of finally winning a major international title. But it was annoying that due to taking the medication, he hadn’t been able to drink any alcohol for the duration of the party. 

He’d felt like a spectator watching everyone else dancing—his team mates, the manager, the support staff, the friends and relatives who’d come over for the tournament, various team mascots. The temperature in the room had increased to a tropical level, so everyone had gradually stripped down to the least clothes possible, giving the atmosphere a distinctly sultry feel. The hotel had arranged the entertainment—a DJ and different singers. No one famous but Cristiano had enjoyed listening to the songs, even if he’d had to sit down every so often. And the mascots had provided their own entertainment—clowning around, chasing each other, pretending to break dance. There was a chipmunk, a rabbit, a bear and fox. They must feel boiling hot in their furry suits but it didn’t stop them entertaining people.

The loud music and flashing lights were starting to irritate Cristiano, however, and he decided to go back to his hotel suite for a well needed sleep. He was so happy to have won this trophy at last, but it would still be there the next day.

As he struggled to stand up from the chair, Pepe and Nani bounced towards him, dodging party guests and furniture, carrying brightly coloured cocktails in their hands.

“Coming back to the main room now, captain?” shouted Pepe, leaning towards him so he could be heard over the noise.

“No, I’m going back to my room.” Cristiano leant on his friend for support.

“You can’t leave now!” shouted Nani. “Might as well carry on til tomorrow!”

“We won’t win this again in our lifetime!” Pepe put his green cocktail umbrella in Cristiano’s hair, laughing.

The Portuguese captain wondered how they still had so much energy. Probably because they hadn’t been injured in the match like he had. He told himself he mustn’t get too worried about his knee—a good night’s sleep would help no end.

“I need my sleep—I’m getting old and I can’t party like you young ones.”

Pepe rolled his eyes. “You’re younger than I am, estúpido! Come on, make the most of it.” He and Nani tried to pull him away from his chair but his phone beeped just at that moment.

“Hold on a minute.” He wriggled the phone out of his jeans pocket and saw who the text was from. “I’ll follow you in a minute.” He turned away, trying to hide a smile, so Pepe and Nani shrugged and set off back to the main room, weaving their way round the party guests.

The text said: _Are you in your room yet? Maybe you could phone or Skype me…? ;) ;) G._

Cris grinned and began hopping towards the door leading to the hotel corridor. Security staff stood there, but he knew he was so well recognised by everyone he could go in and out of the party as he pleased. Not that he was expecting to return to the party after the text summoning him upstairs. After he passed the men at the door with a smile and an autograph for each of them, he hobbled off towards the lift as he didn’t intend to tackle the stairs and make his knee worse.

He hurried to the lift as the door was already closing. “Wait for me!” he called, and the doors re-opened just before he stepped in. He fell into the lift with relief but jumped when he saw the person who had pressed the Doors Open button was a mascot from the party. It was the one that looked like a fox, wearing blue trousers and a blue peaked cap over his rust coloured fur suit. 

The doors had swished shut so it was too late to escape—he’d wanted to get to his hotel suite without meeting any more fans, so braced himself for the mascot to request an autograph, a selfie, a hug, or all three. After all, it would only take a few minutes til he reached his room and the promised Skype or phone call—he could cope with the short delay. 

But the mascot didn’t say anything, it just stared at him as the lift ascended. Or at least it was facing towards him—it was hard to tell if it was looking at him through the blank, fake eyes. Suddenly, it stepped to the control panel and pressed the Stop Lift button.

“What are you doing? Make it start again!” Cris backed as far as he could into the corner—just his luck to be stuck with a psycho fan with no hope of rescue. He was sure he could overpower him though and press the alarm button, so he stood as firmly as he could with his wobbly knee, ready.

There was a ripping sound as the mascot unfastened the costume headpiece and let it fall backwards like a hood. Cris’s eyes widened, then he grinned. “H-how did you get here? I thought you were in Wales! Why—”

Gareth stepped forward, then hugged and kissed him, which was awkward due to the bulky costume and the fox fur going up Cris’s nose. He kept sneezing so the Welshman let him go after a minute and they stood next to each other against the wall of the lift.

“Why are you here? I mean I’m glad to see you but when—”

“I wanted to congratulate you on your win.” He beamed smugly.

“So you’ve been at the party all along?”

Gareth nodded. "Someone had to make sure you didn't get more injured."

“Why didn’t you come over to me?” 

“I could hardly rush over and jump on you, could I? What would people say?”

Cris stuck his lip out. “It was boring without you.”

“Aw…you poor thing! Bored with all your team mates and fans around worshipping you.” He ruffled Cris’s hair.

“Get off! So you texted me from the party?”

“Yes.”

“So you could lure me to my bedroom?” Cris shook his head and tutted, suppressing a smile. “Very devious, Senhor Bale.”

“I thought it was genius.” Gareth smiled innocently. “So, are we going to stay in the lift all night or should I press the button now, oh great winner of the trophy, champion of the—”

“Shush! I am glad you know your place at last.” Cris couldn’t keep a straight face and grinned. “Please re-start the lift at once.”

The mechanical whirring began and the floor shook as they ascended again.

“I can’t wait to get this off, its bloody hot.” Gareth pulled at the neck of the fox suit to let some air in.

“It looks it. What are you wearing underneath?”

“Nothing.” He waggled his eyebrows.

The lift reached the correct floor, jolted to a stop and the doors began to open.

“Come on then.” Cris hobbled off down the corridor as fast as he could, towards his luxury suite with the four poster bed, dragging his fox mascot boyfriend along with him.


End file.
